


The Mini Adventures of Kim Taeoh

by missfortune (potentialfordisaster)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Appa!Jongin, Domestic Fluff, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Omma!Kyungsoo, Post Mpreg, Taeoh is their kid, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentialfordisaster/pseuds/missfortune
Summary: “Taeoh!”The boy giggles, crawling farther under the bed. He likes to hide from his parents sometimes, because it’s fun and has them giving him all their attention.“Taeoh, where are you?” he hears his omma calling.“He must be hiding somewhere again,” Taeoh hears his appa saying in a much lower voice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I recently discovered the videos of Kai meeting his baby look-alike and couldn’t stop thinking about a Kaisoo family. So I feel I should just put it out there that I have no rights over the child whatsoever nor do I own his image or something. 
> 
> This is very short, uncomplicated fiction. Hope you like it!

\- 

 

“Taeoh!” 

The boy giggles, crawling farther under his grandparents’ bed. He likes to hide from his parents sometimes, because it’s fun and has them giving him all their attention. He’s never done it while in his appa’s parents’ house though, but there’s a first time for everything. 

“Taeoh, where are you?” he hears his omma calling. 

“He must be hiding somewhere again,” Taeoh hears his appa saying in a much lower voice. “Go help my mom, I’m gonna go find him.” 

There are footsteps and muffled voices. Taeoh hears it when his appa climbs up to the second floor, where he is at, and moves to hide himself completely under the mattress. 

Under the bed isn’t the cleanest place ever and his omma is certainly going to scold him later for dirtying his hands. 

Taeoh tenses when he hears his appa’s footsteps drawing closer while the tall man calls out for him. He tries to make as little noise as possible but the need to laugh gets harder and harder to control. In the end, he manages not to snicker but the dirt collecting under the bed and in the air has his nose scratching and before he realizes it, Taeoh sneezes. 

He holds his hand to his nose, freezing and perking up his ears. The door to his grandparents’ bedroom inches open and Taeoh can see the shadow of his appa’s legs. 

“Taeoh,” his appa calls, almost sing-songing. 

But Taeoh keeps mute, pinching his nose the way he does when something smells foul. 

“Where are you, kid?” his appa asks, opening the closet and looking around the room. 

Taeoh bites his bottom lip not to laugh out loud. It’s so funny when his appa keeps looking after him for a long time. 

His appa doesn’t close the door on the way out of his grandparents’ bedroom and Taeoh almost can’t believe his luck. He crawls from under the bed slowly, smiling all the while he bats his dirty hands on his trousers. 

He carefully walks up to the door, peering through the gap to scan the hallway. His appa must be looking for him somewhere else, so Taeoh bolts out of the room, running for the stairs where he plans on climbing down and giving his omma the scare of a lifetime. 

But all of a sudden, a big pair of hands clamps around his waist from behind and Taeoh squeals out loud, kicking his small legs when his appa gives a victorious yell and hikes him up his arms. 

“Jongin?” his omma calls from downstairs, “did you find him?” 

“Yeah!” his appa answers, climbing down the stairs with Taeoh on his arms. 

Taeoh pouts, not liking the way his mighty plan was ruined by his appa. He tries to pull away from his hold, only managing to sneeze a bit more. 

“Look at you,” Jongin crows, “oh, your omma is going to be so cross when he sees you all dirty like this, Taeoh,” he smears his hand on Taeoh’s face, trying to rub the dirt that clung to his cheeks away. 

Taeoh frowns, clinging to his appa’s neck when he enters the living room. 

His omma gasps when he sees Taeoh. “Baby,” Kyungsoo exasperates, “where were you? Argh, your clothes are dirty. Jongin, where did you find him?” 

Kyungsoo frets, taking the napkin his mother-in-law passes to him and trying to clean Taeoh’s face and hands. 

“Appa didn’t find me,” Taeoh makes sure to remark. 

Jongin rolls his eyes, passing Taeoh over to Kyungsoo. “He was under my parents’ bed.” 

Taeoh pouts. The sneeze must have given him away. 

Kyungsoo gives a tiny huff. “Come, let’s get you all cleaned up,” he takes Taeoh to the bathroom. 

 

\- 

 

“Omma,” Taeoh whines and turns his head to the side when Kyungsoo inches a wet towel to clean his face. 

“Stay still, Taeoh,” his omma says, clicking his tongue when he sees the clean clothes he’d dressed his son in already so dirty. “How are you going to lunch like this?” he mumbles. 

Taeoh pouts, looking down at his clothes, his trousers smeared with dirt at the knees where he’d crawled under the bed. He never understands why but his omma takes clothes very seriously. 

“Appa didn’t find me,” he repeats proudly when his omma pauses to run the towel under the faucet, kicking his legs against the sink where Kyungsoo had sat him down, “he didn’t know where Taeoh was. But I sneezed so- so-,” he opens his mouth, looking for the right word. 

“Oh dear, Taeoh, that dirt could have kicked your allergies off,” Kyungsoo tsks, taking Taeoh’s small hands and guiding them under the faucet, washing it with the strawberry scented soap his grandmother keeps around. 

“No more hiding under beds, you hear me?” Kyungsoo tells him seriously. 

Taeoh pouts, looking down at his lap. He doesn’t like when his parents get cross with him. Granted, being on the end of his omma’s scolds are way better than his appa’s. 

Kyungsoo gives warm hugs and smells like cookies but he doesn’t like to play soccer with Taeoh in the backyard the way his appa does. But when Taeoh does something really nasty his appa can go very serious and scold him really hard, so much that the boy usually runs for his omma’s lap in tears. In those moments there’s nothing Taeoh likes better than to cuddle with his omma, who despite agreeing with his appa, doesn’t deny Taeoh hugs and kisses. 

Kyungsoo puts the towel aside and sighs quietly. “Come on,” he helps Taeoh down, kissing his forehead, “let’s go lunch.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, no!” Taeoh gasps, watching in rapture as the boat wobbles inside the swirl caused by the tub being drained out. 

“Look, omma,” he calls, reaching for the toy, “Taeoh save boat.” Indeed, he scoops the boat up in one chubby hand, glad to know that he managed to save the small families that lived inside it. 

“Okay, my hero, come over here,” Kyungsoo grins, grabbing Taeoh’s fluffy green towel, “let omma dry you up.” 

Taeoh pouts, not really liking how short-lived his bath was. Usually he didn’t like taking them and his omma had to be very persuasive, or sometimes, very mad to get him inside the tub. But once Kyungsoo brought out his toys and his rubber duck Taeoh would have a load of fun during his bath. Granted, his omma kept trying to scrub him and wash his hair, which was a bit annoying but Taeoh let him be. 

Kyungsoo dabs the towel on his son’s body while Taeoh talks about the last Pororo episode he watched. 

“And then,” Taeoh says, eyes squirming shut when Kyungsoo helps him into his pjs’ shirt, “he helped all his friends find the way back. Omma, can I get ice-cream?” 

“Right now?” Kyungsoo deadpans, “it’s late, baby. And you already had your dinner, didn’t you?” 

Taeoh pouts, supporting both hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders so he can step into the holes of his pants, which his omma holds open for him. “Yeah, but I want to.” 

“Not now, though. Tomorrow, okay?” Kyungsoo drops a kiss on his forehead. “Come on, let omma comb your hair.” 

Taeoh sits on the toilet seat and dangles his legs while Kyungsoo parts his wispy dark hair with a comb. Like this, pouting and with his hair slicked, Taeoh looks like a carbon copy of Jongin. Not that he wasn’t in any other scenario, but every once in a while his son will draw an expression that has that pang of realization hitting Kyungsoo’s chest: he looks a like a mini Jongin alright. 

Kyungsoo switches the bathroom’s light off once they step out of it. Taeoh immediately walks towards his room, still mumbling about the ice-cream. 

Kyungsoo pulls Taeoh’s covers so the toddler can finally slide into bed, which he does with a pout still in place. 

“Omma,” he calls, his puppy dog eyes sucking Kyungsoo’s soul in, “can you sleep here with me?” 

Kyungsoo hums thoughtfully. “But aren’t you a big boy already? I thought big boys didn’t sleep with their ommas,” he teases. 

Taeoh had reached that age wherein he’d started to refuse the baby title, often choosing to do everything by himself in front of others. But Kyungsoo knew he was still very much their little baby inside, prefering to snuggle and let Kyungsoo hold him through the night just like when he was a baby that needed their attention 24/7. 

Taeoh is clearly undecided, wringing one hand in his spaceships patterned covers. 

Kyungsoo crouches to reach his eye level, pulling one side of the cover down so he crawl onto the bed. “Omma won’t tell anyone, okay?” he murmurs, satisfied with the way Taeoh perks up and shoots him a small, proud grin, nodding his head as he falls beside his omma. 

His bed is small and Kyungsoo has a hard time folding himself into a position where his whole body fits. Taeoh wriggles closer to him and the smell of his children’s shower gel fills Kyungsoo’s nostrils until his heart clenches in familiarity. 

“Omma,“ Taeoh begins, “why is my name Taeoh?” 

Kyungsoo allows himself a smile. Taeoh can be the most curious boy, sometimes showering him with all kinds of questions, from what his second, third and fourth favorite color are to why the sky is blue. 

“Because me and your appa thought it was a nice name,” Kyungsoo answers, watching Taeoh amusedly while reaching to straighten the hem of his pjs. “Why? Don’t you like it?” 

Taeoh makes a thoughtful face, staring intently at the ceiling. “I like it,” he says, turning on his side so he’s facing Kyungsoo. “Why is your name Kyungsoo?” he asks. 

“Because my omma and my appa thought it was a nice name,” Kyungsoo entertains. 

“Why?” 

“Because they just did,” Kyungsoo shrugs. 

Taeoh appraises him carefully. “It’s a long name.” 

Kyungsoo laughs. “It is, yes. You’re right.” 

Taeoh closes a small fist on the front of Kyungsoo’s shirt as they talk, mumbling about ice cream Kyungsoo had promised him for tomorrow and if they can watch Cars again any time soon. 

“Appa said,” Taeoh begins, glancing at his own hand as he pulls on Kyungsoo’s shirt, probably looking for the right words. His vocabulary increases every day and Kyungsoo tries to make it a habit of listening to him and trying to let him do his own talking by himself. “Appa said,” he repeats, “that Taeoh came from omma’s belly,” he finishes, poking Kyungsoo’s belly lightly over his shirt. 

“Oh,” Kyungsoo considers, “did he?” 

Taeoh nods, earnestly waiting for his answer. 

“That’s true,” Kyungsoo smiles, “I had you right here,” he pats his belly. 

Taeoh studies him carefully before breaking into a smile like Kyungsoo had told him the funniest story ever. “But how? Taeoh is big.” 

“Yes, but Taeoh was once very, very small,” Kyungsoo explains, “he fit right here.” 

Taeoh inches Kyungsoo’s shirt aside so he can look at his belly closely. “But,” he makes, then pauses and analyzes his omma’s skin. “But why?” 

Kyungsoo caresses the top of his head. “Because me and your appa decided we wanted to have you.” 

Taeoh hums in thought, pressing a chaste kiss to Kyungsoo’s belly and then laughing immediately after, a bit bashful. “But omma,” he starts, then wiggles his fingers around until finding Kyungsoo’s stretch marks, “and this? What is it?” 

“These,” Kyungsoo moves his tiny palms so they are splayed over the pallid lines that cross his skin, “are the marks that you left. Because you grew so much inside my belly. You needed space, so my skin had to stretch like this,” he makes an upwards motion demonstratively. 

Taeoh smiles. “But it didn’t hurt?” 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I barely even felt it.” 

Taeoh scratches his marks for a little longer before his movements slow down considerably. 

Kyungsoo knows his son is about to fall asleep, so he arranges him so that his small head is on his pillow, body curled on its side as Taeoh continues to cling to him for comfort. Kyungsoo hooks his nose on top of his head, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. And waits. 

Taeoh’s body goes slack, his breathing stabilizing until Kyungsoo quietly unfurls his fist from the front of his shirt. 

He slides out of the bed as carefully as he can, pulling the covers back over Taeoh’s body and fighting the lazy feeling that’d taken over him as well. 

He drops a kiss to his son’s forehead and tiptoes out of the room, leaving the door ajar as he follows down the hallway towards his own bedroom. 

Jongin is already in there, glasses on as he reads a book on the bed. He’d been working on a report for his job a while ago and Kyungsoo had taken it upon himself to bathe and put Taeoh to bed today to leave Jongin to his work. 

“Did he ask to you to lie down with him?” Jongin asks as soon as Kyungsoo moves to take his place beside him on the bed. 

Kyungsoo nods his head. “Even revoked his big boy rights for it.” 

Jongin hums amusedly, putting his book aside so he can turn on his side. He throws an arm over Kyungsoo’s waist and pulls them closer, yawning over the curve of Kyungsoo’s shoulder. 

“Hmm, you smell so good,” Jongin declares, nuzzling into Kyungsoo’s neck and provoking a shiver out of his husband. 

“I smell like Taeoh,” Kyungsoo justifies, nonetheless enjoying the intimacy as he wraps his arms around Jongin’s neck. “He said you told him he grew inside my belly.” 

Jongin hums, face pulling into a grimace. “Did he make too many questions?” 

Kyungsoo scoffs. ”Just a little bit. Asked after my stretch marks.” 

Jongin cackles. “Oh, I love that boy. But no baby-making questions, right?” 

“Not yet, you silly,” Kyungsoo flicks his forehead, “he will one day though. With the way he keeps making so many questions.” 

“What are we going to tell him?” 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “That you seduced me and planted your seed inside me,” he jokes, kind of cringing at his own words. 

Jongin’s face pulls into a smirk. “Yeah, and that you really, _really_ liked it,” he says it while turning them over until he’s lying on top of Kyungsoo and in between his legs, “when I planted,” he drops a kiss on his neck, ”my seed,” he nips his jaw, “inside of you,” he finishes, teeth nagging on Kyungsoo’s bottom lip. 

Kyungsoo gives him a look, letting himself be kissed while cupping Jongin’s face. “And would you,” Kyungsoo begins, pecking the corner of Jongin’s lip, “like,” he tightens his legs around Jongin’s waist, “to,” he inches to whisper in his ear, “do it again?” 

Jongin tenses, a second of absolute silence following Kyungsoo’s words. 

“You mean the baby-making?” Jongin asks, blinking owlishly at him. 

Kyungsoo only raises one eyebrow in response and the rest. The rest is history.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know your thoughts on it! <3


End file.
